


A Gamin turned Assassin

by Tyrion_Lannister



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Crossdressing, Gen, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrion_Lannister/pseuds/Tyrion_Lannister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the idea that Montparnasse would dress up as a woman to seduce and rob men, in turn based off a throwaway line in the Brick that in fact refers to someone else entirely, because I have no self-control and crossdressing Montparnasse is amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gamin turned Assassin

The soldier stepped out into the street, the soft thud of his boots against the dusty cobbles disturbing the still, insidious quiet. It was late, well past midnight, and the narrow alleyway was illuminated solely by the cold light of the moon, shining down impassively from the heavens, and the distant glimmer of lanterns behind cautiously shuttered windows.

The soldier paused at the mouth of the alley, his eyes upturned as he contemplated the skies with a thin-lipped smile. Others may have felt afraid, alone in the streets of Paris at such a late hour, their only company the slightest whisper of a cool breeze as it passed over their shoulder, but not he; he was strong, a bastion of the peace, truncheon held firmly at his side. The uniform he wore, a carefully constructed representation of his innate dominance and authoritarian power, only solidified his assurance as he squared his shoulders and made to continue his walk.

A brief, aborted noise somewhere in the depths of the alley stopped him in his tracks. He turned, one hand going to the weapon at his hip as he peered into the gloom. The street was dark, houses looming high above his head, and he narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see through the shadows, the alley before him opening up like the gaping, cavernous maw of some mythological monster, jaws poised open as he hovered on the edge. He remained there, still, for another minute, until the mysterious noise pierced the silence once more, seeming all the louder in the oppressive, heavy darkness. It was soft, more like the pained whimper of a wounded animal than the growl of a predator, and the soldier shook off the vague frisson of unease, of  _wrongness_ , re-entering the alleyway at a clipped pace.

“Who’s there?” His voice was loud, his tone crisp and impatient, and when no response was forthcoming, he brought a hand up to his eyes as if to ward off the shadows obscuring his vision. “Didn’t you hear me? I said,  _who’s there?_ ”

There was a muffled rustling, and the soldier cocked his head, his body becoming almost preternaturally still as he assumed a fighter’s stance, teeth bared and feral in the pale moonlight. A sudden flash of white appeared in the peripheries of his vision, and he abruptly turned on his heel, drawing his truncheon in front of him while he span, only to lower it almost as quickly as it had been drawn. A woman was leaning against one of the ancient, crumbling buildings, her lily-white hand resting against the brick as she stumbled on the uneven cobbles, chest visibly trembling as she tried to regain her breath.

The soldier dropped his guard, replacing his weapon and straightening where he stood. The unease coiling in his gut dissipated with a flash of relief, and he took a step towards the woman. As he approached, her form became clearer, and he could see that she appeared no older than seventeen; her face was flushed, a rosy pink blooming prettily on the apples of her cheeks, and her lashes were startlingly long and dark. Her hair was hidden beneath a bonnet, although a couple of dark strands had fallen loose to curl over her high forehead, and her dress was in disarray, skirts torn and rucked up around her ankles. The soldier’s gaze was contemplative as he looked her up and down, discarding his immediate assumption as he examined the fine material of her clothes. _Clearly this was an innocent lady, not some streetwise prostitute on the run from an overeager or brutish customer_. He raised a questioning eyebrow as he smoothly offered her his arm, his tone oily and unctuous when he spoke. “What are you doing out so late,  _mademoiselle_? It is surely dangerous out here for a woman like you.”

She recoiled fearfully as he spoke, eyes darting left and right as if looking for a means to escape, but after a short hesitation nevertheless extended a slender hand to take his arm. “Oh,  _monsieur_  – I was simply out for a walk, enjoying the sunset, and before I knew it I was lost in all these side streets…” Her voice was hushed, but evidently high and melodic, and the soldier wondered if she would sound as sweet when she sang; as a girl of her status, surely she must. “I’m afraid my imagination ran away with me, and I started imagining ferocious beasts and terrible predators behind every corner! If I tell you my father’s address, could you possibly show me the way back home?” She looked eagerly up at the soldier, eyes wide and guileless, and her small fingers tightened slightly against his strong bicep.

“I could certainly do that,  _mademoiselle_ , but don’t you know that it’s terribly unwise to tell strange men where you live?” The soldier let a hint of supercilious amusement creep into his voice as he looked down at his companion. Her naivety was obvious, and she certainly was  _very_ pretty… He let his eyes linger on her rouged lips for a beat too long, admiring the plush fullness of her mouth. As he watched, she bit her lip almost coquettishly, and glanced up at him with a coy expression he had seen many a time adorning the faces of his mistresses, eyelashes fluttering against her high cheekbones.  _Perhaps she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed, then_.

He contemplated this new information while the seconds elapsed, allowing his arm to brush gently against her slim waist as they walked. _They were still in the gloomy alleyway, so if she were to refuse his advances there would be no one around to witness his humiliation, and what had he to lose by trying?_  With one sure gesture, he decisively turned towards her, wrapping his free arm around her hips as he moved them backwards into the shadow of the nearest building. The girl let out a surprised exclamation as she collided with the wall, but her cry was muffled by the soldier’s mouth as it roughly came down to cover her own. Her slim-boned hands flailed for a minute before finding a place on his shoulders, and he tensed, waiting to be pushed away, but instead they drew him in yet closer to the warmth of her body. Relieved, he allowed his own hands to roam over her figure, pressing firmly against her lithe curves and creasing her dress as he sought to part her sweetly bowed lips with his probing tongue. He smiled wolfishly against her mouth as her hands fell from his back, moving instead to the ruffles of her skirt, and pushed her even tighter against the wall, his arms coming up to rest either side of her head, bracketing her body.

 _She tasted like cherries._  That was the last thought to cross his mind before he gasped in shock, his breath suddenly escaping from his lungs as if forced out by a harsh blow. He was dimly aware of a sharp pain to his chest, left wide and unprotected by the position of his arms. Warm liquid trickled down his front, and he thought briefly about his uniform, and the cost of cleaning it, before the knife slid out from between his ribs and he slid gracelessly to the floor. The last thing he saw before his eyes slid shut and darkness took him was the young lady standing above him, peering down at his powerless form with an expression of mild curiosity, and he opened his mouth to tell her to  _run, go, quickly,_ but the words stuck wetly in his throat as his heart finally stilled.

Silence reigned for a while, time seeming to stand still for a moment as the soldier breathed his last, and then Montparnasse moved, pushing away from the wall and stepping neatly around the body at his feet so as to avoid being soaked by the blood rapidly pooling against the cobbles. Leaning down, he wiped the knife against the starched material of the dead soldier’s collar, before roughly emptying his pockets of anything that could be of value. With a disgusted grunt, he kicked him sharply in the ribs as a parting gesture, smiling in grim satisfaction as the body jerked. The rouge adorning his lips, smeared from the soldier’s forceful kisses, glinted like blood in the silver starlight.

It only took a couple of minutes for Montparnasse to strip, tearing off the fancy dress and twisting himself out of the tightly cinched corset that enhanced his narrow waist. He pulled off the bonnet, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he ran his fingers through the dark curls that fell effortlessly to his shoulder, and swiftly redressed himself, pulling on the dark clothes he had concealed under his skirts. He spared no parting glance to the body or his discarded attire as he darted out of the alleyway, silently merging into the shadows as he made his escape.

The soldier lay there undisturbed until morning, watched over by the uncaring moon, his weapon still undrawn at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have no idea what this is and I'm sorry...
> 
> I'm orestesgayandpyladesalsogay on Tumblr, come join the femmeparnasse party.


End file.
